Car Review: 2012 Ford Mustang Boss 302

By David Booth, Postmedia News

Originally published: June 7, 2012

Mosport International Raceway, Ont. — I am faced with a conundrum. An inappropriate conundrum. Actually, it would be far more accurate to say I am faced with a conundrum at an inappropriate time.

Said conundrum is my attempt to forage through the memory banks in my old-timer’s cranium, trying to remember the technical details of Ford’s press material about the Boss 302, the latest — and most probably the best — Mustang ever. The inappropriate part is that I am doing so while tossing said high-performance Mustang deep into the fastest corner of Mosport’s Driver Development Track (DDT) with a hopped-up Subaru WRX STi biting at my heels. As any driver instructor will tell you, I should be concentrating on the road ahead rather than on the metal bits underneath.

But the salient point I am trying so desperately — and, again, inappropriately — to remember is whether Ford slipped an independent suspension under the Mustang’s rear wheels unbeknownst to me. The Mustang is handling so well around the rather bumpy and scrappy DDT that I couldn’t believe it was suspended by anything so archaic as a live rear axle.

But — quandary solved — there really is a solid rear axle back there, which besides being almost unbelievable finally lends some credence to Ford’s long-held assertion that a live rear axle can be made to handle almost as well as an independent system. And even though I will later find some sharp-edged bumps on the way home from the race track that will show up the limitations caused by the live rear axle’s massive unsprung weight, for my time on the track, the rear end of the 302 proved a surprise and a delight.

Indeed, the Boss reveals precious few limitations on the track. Like the recently introduced Chevrolet Camaro ZL1, the new Boss Mustang quickly dispels any notion that Detroit muscle is in any way secondary to European muscle. Although Ford’s contention that the 302 is the equal of Porsche’s 911 is a stretch, comparisons with BMW’s M3 are credible.

Despite being ill suited to the DDT’s tight hairpins (indeed, anything bigger than a 125-cubic-centimetre motorcycle seems overly large for the short 2.4-kilometre circuit), the Boss scoots around like a slot car on steroids. The big Pirelli P Zeros (P255/40ZR19 front and P285/35ZR19 rear) display remarkable grip and, even though the front end pushes a little in tight hairpins, thanks to the lowered (10 millimetres in front and one measly mm in the rear) and stiffened suspension, the Boss remains admirably neutral, able to drift all four wheels simultaneously through that aforementioned high-speed bend that was causing me so much consternation. Said high-speed left was followed immediately by a hairpin right, meaning the Boss had to drift left at high speed while retaining enough composure to set up for a quick brake-and-flick to the right. Previous Mustangs would have tied themselves up in knots. And, yes, that includes the King Cobra GT500, which feels like a softly suspended pillow in comparison.

Of course, many have already compared — sometimes unfavourably — the Boss with the supercharged GT500, lamenting its “paltry” 444 horsepower compared with the GT’s 550 (and now 662) horses. But mere numerical advantages work only on digitized race courses. I’ll take the normally aspirated but fully controllable power of the Boss over the GT’s supercharged ferociousness any time. For one thing, though the Boss sacrifices outright power, it has a much wider powerband, able to rev with authority to 7,500 rpm where the GT is all done by 6,000. On the tight Mosport track, that lets me hold third gear longer and not have to constantly row the six-speed gearbox (its notchy gear selection is still the Mustang’s major limitation) between hairpins. Throttle response is also far more linear, making controlling the aforementioned rear wheel drifting far more easily than on the torque-laden GT. According to Ford, on certain tracks, the Boss is quicker than the power-mad Cobra (no comparisons are available for the new 662-hp edition, however). Throw in the fact that the Boss offers a race car-like manually adjustable suspension (five settings are available front and rear, but I spent most of my time in the factory settings, which are the second softest all around) and customizeable steering effort (choices of Comfort, Normal and Sport; I left it on Sport) and you have a surprisingly competent track car. Again, that comparison with the M3 is not that outlandish.

Niggles are few. The reason I appreciated the 5.0-litre V8’s extremely wide powerband is that the six-speed manual is a little notchy between gears. It’s not at all like the rock crunchers of yore, but compared with German manual transmissions that must handle the same torque, it’s not as slick.

And, while the Brembo-sourced brakes are wonderfully fade free, I’d like a little more initial bite. Maybe it’s just that I am used to the two-finger braking of modern superbikes, but a little more sensitivity underfoot would not go amiss. That said, I could not get the brakes to fade despite some serious abuse. Since the four-piston calipers are made by Brembo and the discs are ventilated as well as being 356 millimetres in diameter, perhaps the solution is as simple as a more aggressive brake pad material.

And, if I must gripe, the only significant upgrades inside are the (much-appreciated) Recaro front seats. Most of the rest is standard Mustang GT, i.e., a lot of hard plastic and underwhelming decor. A $50,000 Mustang should have more upgrades inside, even if it is just a more comprehensive gauge set that shows the owner is a little more serious about his or her driving.

That said, the Boss 302 is, by far, my favourite Mustang. Ford has long been trumpeting the pony car’s sporting bona fides. This is the first one that fulfills that promise.